


How to Fall in Love with the Local Forest Hobo

by WalkingTVs



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Awkward Romance, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Kylo Ren Needs a Hug, Kylo Ren is Trying, Magic, Medieval Medicine, Nightmares, No use of y/n, Original Character(s), Past Abuse, Romance, Slavery, Slow Burn, Soft Kylo Ren, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, The First Order Sucks, The Force, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:34:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21894481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WalkingTVs/pseuds/WalkingTVs
Summary: After escaping from her masters in the Castle of Lord Hux, a hurt woman finds help from a strange man of the woods.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 61





	1. Escape

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everybody! Welcome to my first work on the archive. I was inspired by the new movie to write a story about our favorite sad man, kylo ren.

The rain lashes down on my skin, cold and sharp like knives. Dark trees loom above my head and low-hanging branches scratch my skin as I run. My feet slip in the mud. I crash down onto the forest floor. Mud squelches between my fingers and stains my rain-soaked dress. I spit out dirt and blood and jump back to my feet. I can’t stop running no matter how my feet slip, my legs scream, or my arms burn from the branches. If I stop I’m caught; I would rather die than be caught by him. 

The rain strengthens. I push my grimy hair out of my eyes and pant. I dodge a tree that sprung up in my path and skid as I nearly fall into a ravine. That’s when I hear them. The hunting hounds of my master. My eyes burn with tears. I have nowhere to go. The baying of the hounds grows closer and I know they have my scent. I can’t lose them on foot. I’ve seen them tear apart stags in moments and I am no such mighty beast. I am a weak slave, nothing more. 

Tears run down my face. I’m frozen at the ledge of the ravine. A scrabbling comes from behind me; they’re here. I have no choice. I jump. The wind screams in my ear as I free-fall. I go numb as I fall, my arms outstretched like I could sprout wings and glide away from my impending death. I hear my leg break more than I feel it. A sicking crunch and a grind of bone on bone echos. The hounds crowd around the edge of the ravine. My vision blurs, rain runs down my face, washing away my tears and the blood running from my head wound. My eyes close. I am dead. I am free.

* * *

My head pounds in time with the beat of my sorry heart. I am warm. I should be dead. Where am I? I struggle to lift my hand and rub my eyes when a man’s voice speaks.

“Don’t try to move,” 

My blood runs cold. I am not dead. I didn’t escape. I must be back at the castle, this must be a royal healer. My eyes fly open and I thrash. I fall from the bed and onto the floor. I shriek as my leg explodes with pain as if it’s been thrust into a fire. A blurry dark form fills my bloodshot vision. Strong hands hoist me back into the bed and push me gently down onto my back again.

“You’re going to hurt yourself,” The form says. “You are not in the palace. You have not been captured by the Order. You broke your leg and dislocated your arm. You’ve been asleep for two days. I sewed your head wound, splinted your leg, and put your shoulder back in.” His voice is deep as he lists in simple sentences reasons I should not be afraid. My heartbeat slows down and the sound of blood in my ears does down. I breathe, in and out. My eyes open again and manage to clear enough to make out the man speaking.

His hair is long, black, and wavy. It falls against his cheekbones and frames his deep brown eyes. His eyes bore into mine. I can’t take the gaze and shut my own. I sense him moving away from my side. 

“Do not try to get up,”

I hear him move around the space. A lid clatters and liquid sloshes into something. 

“Open your eyes,” 

He’s back at my side and holding a steaming bowl. The aroma of strong herbs hit me. 

“Sit up a little bit,” 

Slowly I edge up against a pillow so my head is upright. He scoots a chair a little closer. He offers me a spoon of broth. I open my mouth and take in the spoon. It’s the most wonderful soup I’ve had in years. I close my eyes again and nearly smile. He coughs and I open them again. He feeds me the soup carefully, one spoonful at a time until the spoon scrapes the bottom of the wood bowl. 

My head has cleared enough to register the room I am in. It’s small, one circular chamber and seemingly one other attached room. A firepit glows in the center of the room. Furs are laid out over the packed dirt floor. The bed I rest in is one of the only true pieces of furniture besides a rough chair and table. The man has left the chair; he seems to have left the hut entirely. I close my eyes and lay back down flat on the bed. I feel tired. My leg and shoulder throb, but I feel sleep coming back. Before I drift off again, I hear the man return and set something on the table next to me. I hear him sigh and whisper something. I feel his hand pass over my face just before I fall into a deep and painless rest. 


	2. Who are you?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She starts to heal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited real quick since original upload cause I forgot a whole paragraph at the beginning

When I wake, the man is gone, the fire is down to coals, and the room is dark. Shadows creep in from the rough cut windows. The wind moans and rustles trees against the roof. The door to the attached room opens and the man returns. He moves silently around the room, taking things from a satchel and putting them away. I watch him until he sheds his fur cloak and lies down on the ground. He pulls the cloak around him. I nearly feel bad about taking up his bed, but the pain my leg makes me appreciate the kindness. 

* * *

It’s the birds that wake me. They seem so much louder away from the oppressing silence of the castle. A whippoorwill sings in joy for the fresh day.The sun streams into the hut as morning dawns. I close my eyes against the warm sunlight. The pain in my shoulder has lightened since last night. I wiggle my toes, stiff in the left but limber in the right. In the euphoria of my sweet freedom, I nearly forget the stranger whose bed I am in. But then the man loudly reminds me of his existence with a snore. At least he doesn’t seem to be too put out at sleeping on the floor.

My mouth is dry and tastes of morning mud. He’s left me a mug of water on the table nearby. I try to grab for it with my good arm, but it’s just out of reach. My fingers glimpse against the handle and knock it off the table. A soft thunk and water glides over a deerskin. 

“Blast,” My voice is rough, a testament to how I needed that water.

“I’ll get you another,” I startle as the man’s voice breaks through the birdsong and heartbeat in my ears. 

He rises from the ground and pulls his cloak back on. His eyes nearly glow, such soft brown illuminated by a gentle sunbeam. His undershirt rides up as he stretches his arms above his head and shuts his eyes hard. I avert my eyes from the soft trail of hair on his abdomen and go to reach for the mug. I manage to lean just far enough to grasp the handle and offer it to him with my eyes cast down.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to spill it,” I murmur,

“Can't help it. Don't worry about it,” He takes the cup and leaves the room. I rotate my shoulder, amazed at how well it feels after just a few days rest. One of the other girls dislocated her arm falling from a tree when I was young. It took her nearly two weeks to gain back the use of her arm. I must have been out longer than he said. 

When he returns, he moves the table flush against the side of the bed and puts the cup and a pitcher down. I pick up the weighty mug and sip at the crisp water.

When my mouth no longer feels full of cotton, I begin to ask questions.

“What’s your name,” I start with,

“What’s yours?”

“Helena,"

“Kylo,”

"How long have I really been sleeping? There is no way I could be this healed after just two days,” I raise my formerly injured arm.

“Only two days. I have better practices than those in the palace,” 

“Than how long until my leg is healed?” 

“Weeks still. Bone is harder to mend,” He sighs and flexes his fingers,

“I couldn’t put you out for that long,” My brows knit at the prospect of being bedridden for that long in _his_ bed. 

Kylo shrugs “You wouldn’t make it ten steps out the door if you left in this condition and I can't take you anywhere,”

“I would hate to be a burden,”

“Then don’t be. Follow my directions and you’ll be walking weeks before you would be under the care of a royal doctor. Rest,” He signals the end of this conversation by filling my mug again then turning his back to me. He leaves the room. 

* * *

Hours pass before Kylo returns with a clutch of rabbits strung over his back. I was drifting again, but I’m alert as one of the rabbits, not so dead as it looks, struggles. Kylo grabs it and snaps its neck. I cringe at the noise. He catches my gaze, then looks away. The rabbits swing from a chord. They get dropped on the table while he rebuilds the fire from the coals of last night. That wonderful soup starts to heat up as he takes up the rabbits again. He glances back over his shoulder before he leaves the hut again.

* * *

The days grate against my nature. I need to move, to climb, to run free in the fields. Kylo gave me a carved walking stick on the fifth day, but still, he doesn’t let me get up _._ He fills the pitcher, stokes the fire, feeds me soup, but he’s doesn’t speak to me. Smalltalk about the weather, the hunt, maybe the progression of my injury? No, he’s silent unless directing me. 

He’s never idle. When I wake up in the morning he’s gone, either hunting or gathering ingredients for the salves he rubs into my shoulder and leg. 

Following the trend of my shoulder, my leg feels weeks along in recovery. When I wiggle my toes, they do not feel nearly as stiff as they should be. Kylo rubs balm into my ankle and knee once a day. After every time I feel leagues better. 

By the tenth day, I can sit up and move without jolting my leg. I need to move. My right leg is stiff from disuse. My left, the broken one, feel more like I sprained my ankle than truly fractured a bone. 

When Kylo comes back this morning, he picks up the walking stick from the floor by my bedside. 

“You need to start walking,” He grabs my hands to haul me from the bed. Putting weight on my ankle makes the pain flare up. I stumble up and trip into his chest. He draws away from me quickly, leaving only one large hand holding me under the shoulder, and hands me the cane.

“We’re just going to go around the hut a few times,” He lets my shoulder go.

“Ok,” 

My knuckles are white against the top of the cane; I grit my teeth and take a step forward. Kylo takes my other hand and puts it on his arm. It’s easy to feel his strength under the long sleeve of his shirt. 

“We’ll go slowly,” 

I nod. The next step is easier with double support. He guides me around the hut. The trees are alight with the golden sun. Leaves are starting to shed their summer clothes and dress in their autumnal best. A small waterfall bubbles down a rock face a stone's throw from the hut’s door. Before we go back inside I stop in front of the water, I take my hand from Kylo’s arm and brace my side against the rock. The cool water refreshes me when I splash it across my face. Kylo watches silently as I wash old mud from my hair and sleep from my eyes.

“You’re getting your dress wet,” He nudges me away from the water. Water soaks through the front of my dress. I shiver as a breeze blows through woods, shaking the trees. “Come back inside,”

He sits me down on the bed and hands me one of his tunics, then immediately vacates the building again. I see him out one of the small windows, sitting on a fallen tree, flexing his fingers. 

The clothes are large on me. How could they not be? This man is absolutly larger than life. The left side of my leggings was cut off above the knee when I woke up the first time. I fluster when I truly realize what that means, Kylo throwing up my skirt and exposing nearly my whole leg. How scandalous.

I rub a hand over my left leg. Sore, tired, but not burning with pain. Kylo must have powerful magic in his hands. This could never be possible otherwise. The old women in the castle used to gossip about witches in the woods. About how they would steal your soul if they caught you wandering in their lands. They’d cook your bones for broth and drink your blood to stay beautiful. Kylo is nearly pretty enough for it to be unnatural.

But magic doesn’t have to mean a witch. In the castle, there was a girl in the kitchens who could soothe a cough with a simple laying on of hands. The lord of the region used to light his cigars with a snap of his fingers. What other way could my shoulder have healed so quickly than magic? 

Kylo doesn’t come back into the hut before I fall asleep. I don’t get to ask him if he’s a witch. I hope he doesn’t see fit to boil my bones once I’m healthy again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone reading :0


	3. Sheep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We learn about sheep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I lost my super steam from watching the movie but I'll try to keep it up long enough to finish this story properly.

A few days after our first walk Kylo takes me out on a trail around his woods. He walks slowly by my side. We don’t speak, but it’s not awkward really. Leaves crunch beneath our feet and I smile. The sky is crisp blue and the air is sweet; it’s a beautiful day. I glance over at Kylo. Outright, he isn’t smiling, but his eyes seem happy, maybe I read into him too much. He looks over to me.

“What are you smiling about?” He asks

"Nothing, it’s just a wonderful day.” 

The corner of his mouth quirks up just a bit. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

We turn away from each other again and continue on the sunlit path. 

_break_

Easy cooperation grows between us. In the morning after breakfast, Kylo leaves until midday and I stay to clean up. I feed his chickens. I try to be helpful as I possibly can; I really don’t want him to think I’m leaching. 

There are a lot of things I didn’t notice when I first strolled around his home. A small vegetable garden growing root vegetables, Brussel sprouts, squash, beans, and loads of cabbage. Nestled between wide cabbage leaves and the spray of carrot tops is where I sit for hours on end taking in clean sunlight I’ve hardly felt the likes of before. That's where I start working on a gift, a thick knitted hat for Kylo. I've never seen him wear one so I figure that I should make one especially for him to keep his ears warm. 

After lunch, he takes me to a field just out of the forest that houses sheep. They have a little shed they sleep in, cozy with hay on the ground and an odd thing that seems to be for feeding the sheep.

Kylo teaches me how to handle the sheep so they don’t spook. He shows me that the feeding station is for when he milks the ewes. The first time he shows me, he’s finished so quickly I hardly register what he did. The second time he goes slower to teach me. 

“So you want to get up next to her and lean down. Grab the utters and pull them between the legs, feel around for the milk, then push up to get the right pressure. Then you squeeze with the part of your hand at the top of the utter to push the milk out. Do the same on the other side too.” His voice is methodical as he explains every step as he does them. 

He’s got two ewes still producing milk this late, but he just milked both so I can’t try today. His flock is about six strong, four grown ewes, a nearly full-grown female, and a ram. When we arrive in the field every day their little black faces turn in our direction. The young one bounds up the Kylo and butts up against his sides.

“She’s odd,” I remarked the first time she did it.

“She was difficult at birth.” He pats her fuzzy face. “I had to sleep in the shed for two weeks to make sure she stayed alive. She was the only female in this year’s litter, much too important to lose. One of the other girls is getting old.” 

With one more set of hands, Kylo finishes the fieldwork faster every day. Often we finish just before the sun sets. 

Today we sit in the long grass of the field and catch our breath from the days work. Gold swirls through the painted sky, wisps of clouds weave in the wind. The same wind ruffles Kylo’s hair. 

“I think it’s time for you to go home.” He looks down at me, lying spread on the grass.

“Yeah, we should go, it’s getting dark.”

“No, I meant it’s time for you to go back to where you came from. Your leg is fully functional now and I'm sure someone is missing you. I’ll take you to the edge of the forest tomorrow and you can go back to your life.” He stands and hauls me up after him, then starts walking towards the path home. Tears collect in my eyes; I chase after him.

“I, I don’t have a life to go back to, Kylo.” I grab onto his cloak to stop him from walking away from me. “Why do you think I ended up at the bottom of that ditch. I was running away, I can never ever go back there. If I returned they’d, I would” I can’t finish before I start crying.

“They'd do what? Who were you running away from?” 

“Kill me." I sob. "It's the Order, I was a slave.” The tears roll down my cheeks.

“What type of slave?” He turns around to grab my hand.

“I can't say.” But I know as soon as I say that he knows what I was. A kitchen slave wouldn’t be scared to say what they were, a bedroom whore would. I'm broken, useless, he's going to dump me in town, I'll be dead before the year is over, but I don't want to die anymore. My shoulders shake and bow forward, racked with sobs.

Kylo’s hand wipes my cheek free from tears.

“I won’t send you back there.” His cloak wraps around my shoulders, cocooning me in comforting warmth and scent.


	4. Taken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait and the short chapter. I'll try my best to get this updated more often cause you know, what else do I have to do right now? lol

When I wake up, there’s something large and warm pressed against my back. An arm is thrown over my side and Ben’s face is buried in my hair. I close my eyes again. A few moments pass before I feel him jolt and quickly sit up.

“Sorry.” I turn and see him running his hands across his hair.

“It was nice.” I whisper

“So, I was thinking about last night.” My heartbeat spikes “You can stay.”

Oh, thank God. A smile splits my face. Ben and I fall down on the bed as I lunge at him. My arms wrap around his broad chest in a tight hug.

“Thank you! I promise I’ll be useful, you won’t regret this.”

“Okay, okay, calm down.” He unwraps my arms. “Would you go get some water?”

I bounce up from the low bed and grab an earthen-ware pitcher. The water is crisp in the early morning. I splash some on my face to clear my eyes of sleep. Leaves crunch in the woods. My head snaps up, bleary eyed, I see a hunting dog bounding through the undergrowth towards me. The pitcher breaks on the rocks. I nearly slip in the spilled water as I make a break for it back into the hut.

I barrel through the door and straight into Ben’s arms.

“Ben! They’re here to get me, please, Ben, don’t let them take me back!” I cry, my tears soak into his shirt. Ben’s arms wrap tightly around my back.

“What? Who’s here?”

Barking echoes through the once calm morning, human footsteps follow. The door bangs open. Ben tenses.

“Release my whore, Ren.” A cold, oh too familiar voice comes from the door. I sob. Ben nearly growls. I turn slowly in Ben’s arms. My former master is standing in the doorway, hand on his dagger.

“No.” Ben’s arms cross over my chest, holding me so tight I could almost believe I wouldn’t have to leave. But I know better. You don’t go against Lord Hux, even if you’re Ben.

“Take her.” Lord Hux waves his hand and two men storm through the door.

“No!” Ben throws me behind him. I land in my pile of furs. One of the men screams when Ben grabs him around the neck. They grapple and fall onto the floor. The other man wrenches Ben off his comrade. His head hits the table corner, leaving a stark red stain. The two men advance on me.

“No, no, please! Don’t make me, no, no, no, I can’t!” I sob, but they grab my arms hard enough to bruise and start to drag me away. I struggle like a caught fish. I try to break free, I scratch, I try to pull my arms, but they’re too strong for me. Ben’s eyes open and he tries to get up, but Lord Hux has come into the hut and kicks him, over and over and over. Ben coughs up blood. My throat is raw from screaming for him to stop.

“Shut her up.” Lord Hux huffs, wiping a spot of Ben’s blood of his leather pants.

One man pries my mouth open and holds my jaw wide. The other one dumps a vial in my mouth. He clamps my jaw closed and holds my nose shut. I try not to, but have to swallow. Before I pass out, Lord Hux is on me, so close to me all I can see is his sick green eyes.

“You’re mine.”


	5. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're finished! whoo! this is the first time I've ever completed a multi-chapter fic! thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy!

The castle was as cold and damp as it had always been. My back was pressed up against the wall of my small room, buffered only by a thin blanket given to me by my keeper, Susana, I knew her before. She was nice to all the girls. My legs ache from disuse and my eyes hurt from crying. I have no idea how long had passed since I was dragged back; how long had passed since I was shoved in the room until ‘my attitude recovered’. They should just kill me. I wish they would just kill me. 

A loud clang startled me out of my trance. Susana comes into my room holding a deep red dress. 

“His lordship wishes to see you.” She says

“I do not wish to see him.”

“You fool girl, you know fine well that’s not what matters here. Now get up and let me make you presentable so you can have half a chance of coming back down here whole and, if not hearty, at least living!” She pulls me up from my pitiful bed and drags me out into the hall. We’re bound for the laundry I know, so she can scrub me clean and dress me up like a porcelain doll. 

After half an hour of her scrubbing me raw, I am pressed into the red dress, and my hair is roughly toweled. Susana rolls it up and secures it at the back of my head in an artful knot. All the lord’s girls wear their hair like this to give easy access to their necks. I wish I had chopped it all off the second I left the castle. Susana brushes rouge across my cheeks and tinted oil on my lips. I wish she was less skilled at the work. She’s too quick. I’ll be upstairs too soon.

Susana finishes primping me. She leans down and grabs my shoulders, looking at me intently in the mirror. 

“Smile, dear. It’ll be easier for you.” She gives a little squeeze to my shoulders. A footman opens the door behind us. 

“It’s time for her.” He says. 

The footman leads me down hauntingly familiar hallways as we wind our way through the claustrophobic stone castle to the dining room. Lord Hux is sitting at the head of a long table. He waves away the footman and beckons me forward. The place on his right side is set for dinner. The walls of the room seem to press in on me as I walk down to take my seat next to him. 

“Eat.” He commands

I pick up a spoon; they hadn’t given me a fork or knife. The veal tastes like ash on my tongue. Through two courses Lord Hux is silent. After the last one, he stands quickly from his chair. I flinch. He rounds the table and extends his hand to help me up from my own chair. I do not reach to take it, but he grabs my hand and pulls me up.

“Come with me.” 

He starts walking out of the room nearly before he stops speaking, leaving me stumbling after him like a child. We walk through the castle until we get to his rooms. The heavy oak door shut and the lock clicks closed.

* * *

I wince, dabbing some vodka over a deep bite mark on my neck. Susana is standing behind me rubbing an ointment into the litter of lashes on my back in places I cannot reach. I wasn’t released from his room until dawn broke today. It has been too easy to fall back into the old numbness. A week, or maybe two, had passed since I was taken from Ben’s home. The days blurred together as they were all the same; I wake up late, recovering from the nights spent with Lord Hux, Susana is there to comb my hair and tend to my bruises. I suspect that she’s been tasked with more than just caring for my appearance. I think she’s here to make sure I don’t run away or try to hurt myself. I am never alone. 

Evening comes and I am once again taken to the dining room. Lord Hux is leering at my neck as if proud. I have been painted purple and bruised by his will. He’s attempting a one-sided conversation. After so many years one would think he’d have learned it was hopeless, even more so after my escape. I believe I’ve hardly said a word to anyone since my unfortunate return. 

Hux lifts his fork, but before he can reach his mouth the doors at the front of the hall are blown open. Standing, shaking in the doorway is Ben, a black cloak billows out behind him. His black hair is wild and matted around his face, framing his dark eyes. Eyes that are glaring daggers in our direction. Hux is standing in a moment, primed for a fight. He screams for the guards, but I can see the two stationed at the door are already on the floor, unconscious or dead. 

Ben advances into the room, his eyes roaming from lord Hux’s face to my neck.

“You hurt her? You piece of shit!.” he growls

Ben lunges at us. I jump up and grab the knife from Hux’s plate in time with Ben’s collision into him. They fall to the ground, Ben on top with his hands wrapped around Hux’s neck. Three guards rush into the room. Two run to pull Ben off of Hux; one rushes to grab me about the waist. The guard starts dragging me out of the room simultaneously as the other two latches onto Ben. But suddenly I’m on the ground, a wave of force blasted out from Ben, leaving the guards lying, unconscious on the floor. My guard’s arms are still wrapped tightly around my waist. I wrench around to knock my head into his chin and he drops his arms. I stumble to my feet and rush to Ben’s side, knife in hand. Hux’s face is purple, eyes and veins bulging as Ben squeezes the life out of him.

“Ben,” I say. His head whips around to look at me. I grip the knife hard enough my knuckles bleed white. “Let go of his neck.” 

“Don’t tell me you want him to  _ live  _ after what he’s done to you?” Ben’s eyes go wide, but his grip strengthens. Hux gasps and gargles. 

“No. I just want to be the one to end him. Hold him down.”

Ben’s hands slacken around Hux’s neck. He moves to pin Hux’s shoulders and hands to the marble floor. I climb onto Hux’s chest, the position eerily reminiscent of all the nightmare-inducing nights spent with him. The blade of the knife catches the light on a candle glowing on the table. 

“No! No, please, I’ll let you leave! I won’t come after you! I swear! Please just don’t kill me!” Hux’s face twists into a sick expression of cowardice and fear. 

His pathetic whining is cut short as I plunge the blade  _ deep, deep  _ into his neck until I feel the metal grind against bone and then  _ twist _ . His mouth opens as if trying to scream, but the knife stays buried deep. His lifeblood flows over my hands, staining them crimson with ever so satisfying retribution. Life goes out of his cold, cruel eyes and it dawns upon me. I am free. For the first time in my life, I am free to do with my life what I wish. Lord Hux is dead and will never be able to impose his ill will upon me again.

Ben releases Hux’s shoulders. He lifts my head to look into his eyes.

“We need to get out of here.” He takes my hands off the knife and guides me to my feet. We leave the knife lodged in Hux’s necks and dash out of the room. The halls of the castle fly by as we run through the guts of the building. Ben throws open a door into the courtyard. No one stands guard. Dried leaves skitter across the cobblestone, blown by a bone-chilling wind. A crow calls from atop the battlements. Hux’s blood has dried sticky on my hands. I shiver. 

“We’ll be home quickly. No one will stop us.” Ben shrugs off his cloak and drapes it over my shoulders. His warmth leeches into my skin. 

“Home?”

“As long as wish it to be it shall be your home.” He caresses my face; his eyes are so soft compared to mere moments ago in the castle.

This trek to Ben’s, our, home is much less terrifying than the other two times I’ve taken the route. Now I am hand-in-hand with a savior instead of a scoundrel. 

When the hut comes up in my field of vision I start to pull ahead, dragging Ben along by the hand. The cozy interior welcomes me with the smell of rough-spun cloth, straw, and ash from the cookfire. 

Ben comes in behind me. He leads me over to the bed and sits me down.

“Are you hungry? I have some soup.” He spoons out two bowls of soup. Handing one to me, he sits down next to me to eat. It’s the same wonderful soup he fed me when we met and he nursed me back to health.

When we finish, he rests against the wall, closing his eyes and leaning into me. I slip my hand into his. He opens his eyes, warm and honey-glazed, gazing straight into my heart. He puts his arm around me and pulls me close, quickly dropping a soft kiss upon the top of my head. And after so many years of everything being wrong, something finally feels so perfectly right.


End file.
